posted on Jul, 14 2010 @ 08:20 PM
The more and more I read about Hat Man, the more frustrated and fascinated I become. What jumped out at me is a member earlier in this thread stating
that he equated Hat Man with Zoot from The Muppets. SO DID I. Unbelievable.
When I was a child, between the ages of approximately 3 to 10 years old, I used to have a visitor. It was a man that I would see in the living room of
our home on a near-daily basis. He would be sitting in the corner. There was no chair there, but nonetheless, there he was in a sitting posture. He
was almost completely black, and I always had the impression that he was wearing a long cloak. I could never truly make out his face. At least no
specifics. What I recall was that his face was an opaque moonstone-like color; pallid, white, almost translucent, and the shape of his head was almost
perfectly round, with very thin lips, if there were any at all. These facial characteristics were almost an afterthought after taking notice of the
two physical attributes that were the most identifying. First, his eyes gave the appearance that he was wearing large, completely black sunglasses. I
do not know if those were his actual eyes, or if he was actually wearing sunglasses. Truly, I have no idea. But above and beyond all else was the hat.
He wore what you might call a wide-brimmed bowler or derby hat, or perhaps a gaucho hat, or a hybrid of the two. The top of the hat was completely
flat, and the brim was very wide, almost as wide as his shoulders. The hat was, of course, black as well. I don't remember his hands or feet. All he
would do was observe me.
The very first time I saw him, I immediately went to my mother and described him to her, and the vocal tone of her response was so passive that I was
immediately put at ease. She said "That's just your imagination." At that age, I didn't know what the word "imagination" meant, so I began to
call him Imagination. I thought that was his name, and I thought, due to my mother's passiveness in addressing his presence, that he was not only
harmless, but a welcome guest in our home.
He would observe me as I would play with my toys on the living room floor, or while I watched television from the couch. I never felt any sense of
malice or danger. Rather, he quickly became a part of the living room furniture, almost - the couch, the bookshelf, the man in the hat, the telephone
table. I was never afraid. Know that he was not something I would see out of the corner of my eye. If I looked in his exact direction, I would see him
sitting in the corner watching me. I could focus on his hat, and then his face, and then his body or cloak, in the same way that I could focus on a
book or an album or any other tangible, physical object. This went on for many years. I don't remember when he stopped being there, but he did stop.
I believe I was close to 10 years old, perhaps right before puberty hit, but this is purely a guess.
Every culture around the globe had dragons integrated into their myths. Their appearance varied, but the principle was the same; a gigantic, flying
lizard terrorizing society. Even though most of these cultures had absolutely no contact with one another, they still had something common integrated
into their individual mythos -- the dragon. Could the "hat man" be born of a similar human carnal source?